


Love Me (Just Like That)

by Lywinis



Series: Lo(v)er - Carve it in the Bridge: A Reddie ficlet/one-shot listing [5]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23449930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: Eddie is a cold start. Richie doesn't mind, even when nothing happens at all.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Lo(v)er - Carve it in the Bridge: A Reddie ficlet/one-shot listing [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686373
Comments: 7
Kudos: 81





	Love Me (Just Like That)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bearfeathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearfeathers/gifts), [birkin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/birkin/gifts).



> 
>       __
>     
>     
>     _So brown eyes I hold you near
>     Cause you’re the only song I want to hear
>     A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere_
>     
>     — Death Cab For Cutie, “Soul Meets Body”
>     
>     
>     
> 
> Tumblr Prompt, Frustrated Friends: “Give me five minutes to change your mind.”

“You’re not going to change my mind,” Eddie groused. He was seated on the edge of the bed, Richie boxed in between his knees, feet planted firmly on the ground. His arms were crossed, and the most obvious sign of his nervousness was the way his toes fisted at the carpet by Richie’s knees.

“Babe,” Richie said, _knowing_ what it did to Eddie’s insides, that soft, gentle way he said it. It was quickly becoming one of Eddie’s favorite nicknames, sliding free when Richie seemed to least expect it. Despite himself, Eddie melted into the word, softening and unclenching, placing his hands on Richie’s shoulders, running his thumbs along the muscle.

Richie was broad, tall and square, blockish in everything from his shoulders to the lines of his hips to his hands with their boxy fingers. Eddie loved running his hands over him, feeling the pull and give of muscle, the jump of skin beneath his fingers. It was the same now, tracing Richie’s shoulders and his neck, feeling the bristle of the hair that began at the nape of Richie’s neck, falling in unruly curls over his eyes, which were blown wide and black, the pupils huge as he smiled up at Eddie.

“This isn’t anything to be afraid of,” Richie said, his voice quiet and sure. He leaned into the palm Eddie pressed against his face, his jaw jumping as Eddie slid his fingers along it, enjoying the sensory brush and prickle of Richie’s stubble. “You’re in control the whole way. I’m not gonna rush you through this.”

Despite Richie’s bluster, his extemporaneous bullshit—and there was a lot of bullshit to sort through, for the both of them—he had never once lied about this. Richie took the task of loving Eddie seriously, delving into it with an enthusiasm that was both endearing and overwhelming, doing up Eddie’s headspace in a twist that he never quite got unkinked before the next time. While Eddie might have considered it a chore (and oh, he knew how difficult and demanding he was, that was the _point_ ), Richie seemed to consider it a sacred charge.

Over the last three months, things had blended together, a haze of touch and togetherness that left him breathless but without the need to reach for his inhaler. It was a good thing, a fragile thing, and Eddie shied away as many times as he wanted things. There was so much he could break, with his hang-ups and his neuroses, but Richie didn’t seem to mind, slowing his pace to match Eddie’s, letting Eddie bury himself in the comfort of things he needed.

It was the way things had always been. There was so much care involved in Richie loving Eddie, Eddie still had no idea how he hadn’t suffocated like before.

Richie had the patience of a saint, and the unflagging enthusiasm of a golden retriever. It was an interesting combination, one that Eddie had yet to find matched in anyone else. He didn’t lose his temper with Eddie, didn’t force him into things he thought Eddie should try. Instead, they went at what must have been a glacial pace for Richie, letting Eddie explore and learn about these things in his own time.

Yes, he had the internet. He had porn. But this was different. This was with Richie and Richie had always meant safety to Eddie. Now, as Richie watched him with lazy lidded eyes, those big fingers rubbing circles on his hips, Eddie wanted.

He always did, when he was close to Richie. Years of repression had slotted him into not knowing what he needed, what he liked, because he kept himself firmly under wraps. Away from prying eyes.

Richie’s fingers had torn apart the paper on that box, though, bringing him out into the light, blowing off the dust. Now, Eddie felt hot, a flush crawling up his chest as he looked down at Richie, whose mouth was slightly parted, still red from the hungry kisses he and Eddie always seemed to share. They hadn’t progressed beyond heavy petting, but Richie didn’t seem to be unhappy with how Eddie muffled Richie’s name into his shoulder, shuddering apart in Richie’s hands. In fact, he was intent on those times, as though it meant the most that Eddie was sated.

Maybe it did, to Richie.

“I can hear you thinking, Eds,” Richie said, his voice husky. “There’s no expiration for this, you know. We can always try it…later?”

“No,” Eddie said, the word drawn from him as though he’d decided the answer a long time ago. “No. I want to try.”

Richie blinked up at him, biting at his own bottom lip. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, cupping Richie’s jaw. “Yeah. Let’s try it.”

“All right,” Richie said, leaning into Eddie’s palm before turning his face and pressing a kiss to the center of it. “Check in with me?”

“Green,” Eddie said softly. “Keep doing that.”

“Always,” Richie said. Carefully, he slid big palms under the hem of Eddie’s shirt, pushing it up and nuzzling at his stomach. Eddie’s stomach jumped as he laughed, the prickle of Richie’s stubble more familiar now than it was.

Eddie could feel Richie’s smile near his belly button. It was kind of a heady sensation, if he was honest. It made him laugh, and then harder when Richie made it a point to drag his jaw along Eddie’s stomach. There was always laughter with Richie in the bedroom, perhaps because of who he was.

Or maybe it was because of who _they_ were.

They were good together, Eddie thought as he pulled his shirt all the way off, tossing it in the vague direction of the hamper. He’d clean it up later; he was too engrossed in what Richie was doing to give much of a shit about laundry.

Richie’s hands splayed against Eddie’s hips, thumbs tracing down his thighs and back as Richie peppered kisses against Eddie’s heated skin.

“You always taste so sweet,” Richie said, and Eddie covered his face. Sometimes things were just too much, and he needed to not— “Must be that skincare routine you got going.”

“You should try it,” Eddie managed, hating how wrecked he already sounded. Richie seemed to like it, though, humming softly and nipping at the line of Eddie’s Adonis belt.

“Rather try you,” he said, and his voice sent a thrum of warm anticipation into Eddie’s stomach. He could feel his thighs clench, wanting to push against Richie, but he breathed in, feeling Richie’s eyes on him. “Can I?”

Eddie nodded, feeling Richie’s palm spread across his chest and ease him back onto his elbows. Richie’s hand dragged the length of his chest, and Eddie shuddered at the graze of Richie’s thumb against his nipple as he passed.

He watched, as though from far away, as Richie leaned in, ghosting a warm breath across Eddie’s cock. This was the new and unfamiliar here; the unknown factor. He’d never had this—not that he hadn’t had opportunity, but it was caked in the grime of memory, hot fetid breath against his cheek and he closed his eyes, hand across his mouth. It always came for him like this, made him feel disgusting—

_What are you looking for, Eddie?_

He wanted to hurl, and he whimpered, trying to twist away from Richie’s hands.

Richie stopped.

Eddie’s breathing eased, and he blinked his eyes open. Looking down, he found Richie watching him.

“Check in, Eds,” he said, voice husky.

“Yellow,” Eddie replied. Richie nodded, sitting back on his heels. Eddie let his head flop back, sighing. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Richie asked.

“For being so fucking—” Eddie let out an explosive sigh, flapping his hands in the air as he lay on his back. “Fucking _look_ at me, Rich, I’m a fucking basketcase.”

“You’re not,” Richie said. Eddie lifted his head, if only to level an incredulous stare at Richie. “I mean it.”

“You have my shirt off, and I’m already freaking out.”

“You’re working through complicated shit, Eds. It’s not gonna go away because you want it to, because it’s inconvenient.”

“When the fuck did _you_ get a degree in psychotherapy?” Eddie asked, one arm over his eyes.

“Since Derry. I’ve been in therapy.”

“You have?” Eddie dropped his arm, looking at Richie again.

“Yeah. I know I—” Richie rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “I had a lot of shit to work through, too. Still do. Doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Doesn’t mean I don’t want this with you.”

Eddie felt his insides soften, like a pat of butter in a warm pan. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.”

“I don’t.”

“Good,” Richie said, meeting his eyes. “Because it was _for_ you.”

“Oh.” Eddie felt like he’d been punched in the guts. “Richie—”

“I’m not looking for like, an ass pat—not that I’d say no, touch my butt if you want—but I just. I know that I’m messed up and if I can be better for myself and for you, then I’m gonna do that.” Richie cleared his throat. “So. I said there was no expiration date on this. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”

Eddie pressed his palms against his eyes, so hard he saw stars. “How the fuck do you _do_ that?”

“Do what?” Richie asked.

“Know exactly what the fuck to say?” Eddie squinted at the white spots in front of his eyes.

“I don’t, though,” Richie said softly. “Mostly I just don’t wanna fuck this up, like everything else I do.”

“You’re not a fuck up,” Eddie said. “Come here.”

Richie clambered up off his knees with a grunt that made Eddie smile, then he felt the bed sag as Richie joined him. He curled into Eddie, and Eddie snorted softly as Richie’s soft curls tickled his bare neck.

“I love you,” Richie murmured.

“I love you, too,” Eddie said. “I wish this wasn’t so hard.”

“Not worth doing if it’s not,” Richie said. He smirked, something Eddie could feel against his shoulder. “Besides, it’s _you_. I’m in it for life.”

“Richie—”

“Too fast?” Richie lifted his head, blinking at Eddie. “I can cool it—”

“Rich.” Eddie smiled. “You’re not gonna fuck this up.”

“You say that now,” Richie said. He spread his palm over the scar just shy of Eddie’s heart.

“And I’ll say it again,” Eddie said. He covered Richie’s hand with his own. “As much as we both need to hear it.”

Richie scooted them around until they were actually in bed, instead of half hanging off it. He retrieved Eddie’s shirt, sliding down under the covers against him and wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist. There was no complaint that they’d been interrupted, or even a suggestion that they do something else in the same vein. Richie seemed content to wrap himself around Eddie and tuck his nose into Eddie’s neck.

“You okay?” Eddie asked.

“Mhm,” Richie said, already sounding on the verge of drifting off with Eddie’s fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp. “’S’nice.”

Sometimes, Eddie thought, as he brushed his hands through Richie’s messy curls, was that the reason that Richie was so big was that he had to match the heart inside him. Other times, times like these, Eddie was certain there was another reason. He fit Eddie. Like a puzzle piece, snapping together in his life like he was made to fit.

Maybe that was true; Richie seemed built for loving Eddie, no matter what. Richie’s too-big hands held Eddie just fine, and that was what was important.

**Author's Note:**

> This...did not go where I intended, haha. It was supposed to be all smutty, but I'm working my way there, I think. Honestly, I like working through things this way. Thank you for reading - you can find more of my work by clicking the series link, it's got everything I do for the fandom there!


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